


A Baby

by onyxoverride



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, 進撃の巨人 | Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Creampie, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Pregnancy sex, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy, Zeke is Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:56:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29719614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onyxoverride/pseuds/onyxoverride
Summary: anon said "I wonder how Zeke would react to you being pregnant, would he be absolutely delighted or would just go IM FINNA WHIP DIS HOE 🏃🏃🏎🏎💨💨"So I answered in a fic on accident. Zeke leaves when you find out you're pregnant but then comes back asking for forgiveness.
Relationships: Zeke Yeager & Reader, Zeke Yeager/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 116





	A Baby

**Author's Note:**

> pregnancy, pregnancy sickness, I don’t know the ins and outs of pregnancy but google is my friend- just know I’m unreliable. Angsty, fluffy, SMUT Minors DNI. Pubes? Oversenstivity, creampie. MINORS do not interact (18+)
> 
> this started informally so that's why the beginning is a little funky formatted, I just got carried away. 
> 
> ALSO I saw someone on TikTok recommend one of my fics which is fine, BUT do not recommend my Tumblr on any site. I make dark content as well, Ao3 just has nice filters so you don't even need to come across it!

He’ll either be like “Well I did say I’d stuff you with my babies so...” and he’ll accept his fate as a father. Will be unusually good especially if it’s a little girl because if he has a son he’ll afraid he’ll be like his father. 

Or he’ll give you a look of horror, if you two were protected and this was completely unexpected he’ll be like “...I don’t know if I can do this...” He might run away, but again he doesn’t want to be like his father, eventually, he’ll come back, probably when you start showing because it’s then that he realizes that you’re pregnant with _his_ kid, for real. Will get on his knees and apologize if needed. Give him a wake-up call, “I told you I was pregnant, and you left me alone. You left me alone for almost _three months_. I had no one and you left.”

You need to accept him a bit, for your sake and for your baby's sake, but that doesn’t mean you won't be mean to him a bit as revenge. Plus, he needs to earn your trust back. 

You let him live in the guest bedroom, whatever routine and life you had before, it’s completely different now. It’s awkward. He’s missed so much, he’s missed the worse of your morning sickness and dizziness (which you still have occasionally just not as bad), and he’s missed getting you weird food combos, he’s missed _you_ , he misses your warmth, he misses talking to you in slow cold mornings, he misses rubbing his beard on your neck and you complaining that it tickles, he should have never set a foot out the door, he knows that now. 

“This is _my_ baby. Not yours, not ours, not unless you prove yourself.” And boy does he. It doesn’t matter if it’s the dead of night and you want food, he’ll get it with sleepy eyes and pajama pants if he needs to. One day he’s venturing out of his bedroom to see your bathroom light on, and he’s going to check, of course he is, because he is worried. You’re leaning over the toilet with your eyes closed, head propped against the wall, a cold rag resting on your thigh to get your temperature down and try to keep you grounded as you throw up. 

You can see how this looks like a bad situation _to someone who hasn’t been there for months_. Why do they even call it morning sickness when it doesn’t just stick to mornings. So when he slides next to you on the floor with a panicked look in his eyes asking ‘ _are you okay? is the baby okay? should we go to the hospital?_ ’ it’s a bit irritating but it warms your heart nonetheless. Your head is pounding, you desperately want to sleep but every time you move it makes you a little more nauseous so you can’t even make it to the bed. His hand is on your thigh, it's warm but not uncomfortably warm like your body, and his calloused hands bring you back to reality. “It’s normal,” is the best explanation you can utter out right now. 

He wants to ask what he can do to help, but your eyebrows are scrunched in pain and he doesn’t want to deepen that so he’ll at least try to help. He brings you a pillow to rest your hips on, even though you groan when you move you appreciate it because the tiles began digging into your skin, your pajama shorts do nothing to help you with that but the cold tiles feel nice to an extent. All of Zeke’s knowledge from college and how he took care of his hungover or sick friends is jumbled up because can any of those tips apply here? Whenever your stomach didn’t feel good you’d ask him to fix you peppermint tea and that seemed to help but will the smell bother you? This is the first time he’s felt true panic since- well since you told him you were pregnant, and when he came back to beg for forgiveness. 

You’re still sitting beside the toilet, it’s much more comfortable now with the pillow, and Zeke brought you a fresh wet rag because the old one was starting to warm up to you. There’s shuffling from the kitchen that’s muffled by the walls and he comes back with an armful of things -- it’s almost comical. Your favorite water bottle refilled with bits of ice clinking around, a blue Gatorade bottle, a handful of plain crackers from the back of your cabinet that he must’ve scrambled to find. He runs back one more time to bring a warm mug- which he now realizes probably is the opposite of what you want because it’s warm and it seems like you want to be cold. He looks awkward as he sits on the other side of the toilet, leaning against the tub, like he’s being graded for his performance. He’s just close enough to reach you, just in case, hand caressing your ankle which is more to comfort him than you.

Now you look a little more relaxed. “Uhm...” he clears his throat as he speaks softly, “... I brought you tea, and crackers, water too. And cookies just in case. And Gatorade.” He looks younger now somehow, like when you and him met in college when he first asked you out on a date, nervous and scratching his ear. 

This is the first time you have looked at him so softly since he came back. He does deserve the harshness, he thinks, but seeing the opposite after so long is almost gratifying. “Water sounds nice,” so he hands you the bottle quickly. 

Sitting there almost another hour, you still don’t want to try to get up but Zeke stays and hands you everything you need. Pushes back any hair in the way when you lean to retch into the toilet. The times between each retch get longer, and after forcing yourself to eat a few crackers you feel like you have finally come down to earth, the rag and tiles too cold, the warmth of your bed filled with fluffy blankets tempt you. 

“I think I’m okay now,” you aren’t, but just okay enough to go to bed and try to sleep. Zeke works you up to your feet, slow and steady, staying firm for you to lean on. You catch a glance at yourself in the mirror and it’s almost like a horror movie jumpscare. Red eyes, half-lidded and tired, eye bags more defined and lips chapped. The thought of toothpaste makes you want to throw up again but you have mouthwash that gentle so that’ll do, and the coconut lip balm you rely on has never bothered you. Zeke keeps at least one hand on your hips the whole time, you figure you do look like you are about to fall apart any moment. 

He waddles you to your bed. It looks way different than when he saw it last. More pillows than before, lining the side closest to your bedroom door, _his side_. Or it was his side. There are more blankets too and a heating pad with a little remote dangling off the bed. He feels like he needs to retch now, guilt chasing up his spine. You’ve dealt with this alone, without him. How many times were you not able to get up off the floor because no one was there to help? The pillows that you lined his side with are taunting him, ‘ _we had to fill the void you left._ ’ But it’s just his own voice scolding him. 

There are few things in life he is able to regret, but leaving you was one of the worst mistakes he could have ever made. 

When you finally get comfortable, one leg thrown over the pillow and at least 3 fluffy blankets that he’s tucked over you, the temptation to ask to stay in your room scratches at the back of his head. He won’t ask, not tonight, not right now. He presses a closed-lip kiss to your shoulder that’s barely felt over the blankets. “Holler if you need me, okay?” He can see your breathing is steady and lets out a short laugh, you must have been exhausted. He’ll pour out the tea you didn’t drink, and make sure to get some more crackers on the grocery list.

**/ / :**

Slowly, he’s earning your trust. It’s been a month since he’s come back and now the atmosphere is more comfortable. Not romanticly domestic like he so desperately wants it to be again, but he can’t complain about progress. 

He hasn’t been allowed to touch your belly, or even see it really because you are wearing the biggest clothes you can find. This is a rare moment where he gets to see you in tighter clothing because you feel too warm, and he gets to see your belly. It’s a cute bump, stretching out the tanktop you are wearing, he can see the dip/pop of your belly button through it, and you’ve refused to wear bras ever since your breasts started to feel too sensitive. Zeke didn’t expect to find this so... to put it in simple terms, _hot_. 

Your nipples are poking through, breasts heavy, and the realization that he pumped you full with his kid and claimed you completely runs straight to his cock. He shouldn’t be this horny right now, especially when you are complaining about being too hot while laying on the couch with your feet propped up, shorts doing nothing to cover you, especially when he can see that you are not wearing underwear and slightly wet. Can you really blame him? You are hot, he loves you, and he’s been pent up ever since he came back and even before because his hand doesn’t cut it. 

When he leans to give you a cup of ice water he knows you can see his hard-on through his pajama pants, it’s not like he’s trying to hide it. “Are you seriously horny right now?” You don’t really mean to say it like you are offended, you’re just surprised, and curious, because what the hell is going through his head right now? He’s a little startled because of your straightforwardness but he is nothing if not shameless when it comes to this type of scenario. How do you think you got pregnant in the first place? 

“Yes, because a beautiful woman is laying right there with her legs propped up so I can see her cunt -- which is wet by the way -- and her tits, well, she might as well be shirtless _and_ -” He takes his hand to run up your knee, “-she has my cute kid sitting in her belly right now. You are kind of irresistible you know?” 

_That’s really embarrassing,_ sure it felt airy but you didn’t know he could see. You can feel your cunt gush -- curse pregnancy horniness -- as you look up to him from where your head is resting against a pillow. You could risk it... You can satisfy yourself sure, the few toys you have resting under the bathroom sink but you know that the best experience, the most satisfying one, would be with Zeke. At least you tell yourself that's the reason, really you miss him, you miss him loving on you like you’re the only person in the universe and his warm touches, you miss him fucking you brainless. You don’t think he’ll leave again at this point, he’s too far in, going to doctor's appointments with you and living with you, and if he tried you might just break one of his legs. So why not? It’s not like he could get you pregnant again-

“If I’m so irresistible, why aren’t you doing anything?” You see him quirk a brow at you, knowing this will change the relationship he’s slowly been earning back. He just meant to embarrass you a bit, see you warm up with his lewd words but actually initiating something is the best outcome. So the hand that’s been lingering on your knee goes down to the juncture of your thigh, brushing up against the bump of your belly. It has you sucking in a breath, _you are so sensitive_ , and he loves how responsive you are. 

“As you wish.” He settles himself between your legs on the couch, they spread to accommodate him and he can see more of your cunt peaking out through the shorts. Unless he is mistaken, you have gotten wetter since he last saw it which is sending his blood rushing. Working off your shorts is easy, throwing them somewhere behind him, and he observes for a moment. He hasn’t seen you naked in a long time so he is soaking up every moment like it will be his last. You nudge your ankle to his side, “Don’t _stare_ ,” you say in an airy voice he hasn’t heard in a long time. There’s a patch of hair contouring your cunt, being dampened by your slick. You don’t care if he doesn’t like hair or not, you are pregnant and he should be thankful he’s even between your legs right now. Still, a nagging in the back of your head is making you a little self-conscious, but that is slowly being overridden by desire. He takes your offending ankle and rubs circles in it, it’s to keep you in place, a sense of dominance with a soft undertone. His other hand goes to take a few fingers to spread open your cunt, “I’m sorry, I like to stare at things that are beautiful, it’s how I was made.” That doesn’t even sound like an apology, too light-hearted and snaked with lust. Scolding him sounds like a good option but you can’t bring yourself to. You are just too sensitive, his hand isn’t even rubbing at your sweet spots but it still feels so good. 

His stare on your nethers finally lets up, bringing both of his hands to trail up your belly, rubbing the bump of your growing baby. _His baby_ , that he put in you. He bends over your belly to kiss it through your top, slowly riding it up so he can kiss the skin. It’s too soft, too comforting. You want to cry because this is what you have wanted this whole time since you found out you were pregnant. You wanted him to be sweet, fawn over you, and kiss your belly, and love your kid as much as he claimed to love you. There are so many things left unspoken, so many things to talk over that you both haven’t gotten to. You card fingers through his blonde hair, it’s just as soft as you last felt it, though you know he’s been using stupid low-quality shampoo because he can’t steal yours anymore. He looks up at you, giving you a much too sweet smile before settling his glasses on the coffee table.

He whips off his shirt to stay at least equal exposed as you, you’ve always complained about how it’s unfair. _What’s really unfair,_ he thinks, i _s how hot you look laid out for him_. The roughness of his hands contrasts the softness of your skin, the pudge of your thighs, the slowly appearing stretch marks on your belly, the softness of the edge of your breast he can feel teasing the edge of his hand as he adventures your body. Even your little moans are soft like silk running across his skin every time you breathe one out from his touches. Pulling your tank top over your breasts, he stares again. He really has missed a lot, your breasts look a little different, just a bit bigger, and your nipples swollen a bit with sensitivity, perked and begging for his attention. 

So he caves, pressing his fingertips into the flesh of your breasts making you gasp because of the tenderness. The pads of his thumb circling around your areola before thumbing roughly over your nipple. They’re so cute, so responsive, Zeke loves it. He kisses your belly one more time and adjusts himself closer to you, pajama pants brushing against the swell of your ass, and leans so he can lap at your chest. His tongue feels almost prickly like a cat because of how sensitive you are, it hurts but it doesn’t hurt at the same as he tongues your nipple into his mouth and sucks hard, teeth teasing your nipple just a bit. It causes you to jolt and moan, digging your fingers into his hair as he continues to press kisses into your chest. You can feel his chest vibrate with a salacious giggle, his sadistic tendencies tend to slip out like this, and seeing you jolt and knowing your cunt must be absolutely drenched makes him all too prideful.

“Zeke, that’s enough-” He’s sucking the skin of your breasts hard so it'll leave bruises when he’s done. One of his hands presses gently into your belly, “Soon I won’t be able to do this as much. Let me have my fun.” All the implications send your blood rushing to your head as you throw it back into the pillow. He sucks a few more bruising hickeys to the underside of your breasts before pulling back, leaving a bite at your nipple. 

He’s too needy to even work his pants off completely, doesn’t even bother with his socks. He was right, your cunt is drenched and leaking slick so much, sticking to the hair that's there, it’s almost running to your ass. “ _Fuck_ , you’re so fucking-” he can’t even find the words to describe you right now. _Beautiful, divine, ethereal_ , are a few words that come close to describing you. So he just presses a kiss into your knee before settling his cock near your clenching hole. 

“You’re okay with this?” There’s so much kindness in his voice, seeping into your skin. You know this is your chance to pull back, to continue the steady incline of your relationship with him instead of this jump. You don’t know if it’s your horny brain taking over or your logical side agreeing with it but, _you want this._

“Zeke, if you don’t fuck me I’ll probably cry.” Maybe that wasn’t the best response to this situation, you realize, but you’ve long passed the point of being embarrassed for this. He lets out a rough laugh at your response, pressing his thumbs into the juncture of your thigh and hips. Before he does anything he wrestles a pillow from beneath the couch to sit under your hips, making you wiggle until you are comfy. 

“We can’t have that, now can we?” It’s mocking but filled with affection. He glides his cock over your slick cunt to wet it a bit before prodding at your hole, sliding ina bit slowly to let you adjust. “ _Shit_ -” It feels completely different -- _puffy_ , your insides are swollen and plush, caging his cock in an enticing vice. 

His fingers are digging into your thighs as he holds his cock, pushing in until he reaches the base. Your nails are clasped to his bicep and you swear your eyes roll back from the pressure of his cock inside you. Stretches your walls to the max, pushing against all the soft ridges of your cunt. 

“‘S too much-” He’s barely even moved since he’s been inside you and you’re already complaining? With your slurred words? _Cute_. 

“You can handle it, can’t you?” He shouldn’t be mean, but this isn’t really mean, is it? Rocking his hips into yours, making sure the pillow propping up your hips stays in place, there are tears rimming your lashes from pleasure and little whines being pushed out of you from the force of his thrusts. You can’t even respond with words, he’s too deep and it feels too good and it’s been too long since experiencing this. You barely even use the dildos you have but he’s bigger, thick around the middle and the tip of his cock hammering into your soft patches that you can never reach, that send you closer to the edge sooner than you think. 

The creaking of the couch echoes off the walls but the slaps of his thighs meeting yours feel much louder, it almost makes you dizzy. Zeke is glad your belly hasn’t gotten bigger otherwise he wouldn’t be able to situate himself on top of you anymore, elbows caging you in, his full-bodied warmth comforting you. You whisper curses into his mouth as he kisses you, still rocking into you, your legs wrapped around the back of his thighs to pull him ever deeper into you. Moans trapped by his lips and his own raspy groans by yours. Arms wrapped around his midsection with you nails digging into his back, your nipples brushing against his chest which is pleasurable in it’s own torturous way.

He can feel your plush cunt clench around him sporadically and your thighs tighten around him. The feeling deep in your belly is about to snap, the tears clinging to your lashes roll down the sides of your face and Zeke makes them disappear with wet kisses and a rough thumb, pushing your chin down to capture your lips with his again. “Gonna cum for me?” There he is again with a cock lilt to his voice that has your cunt quivering around his cock, but you have no room to complain right now. You are sure you’re leaving red streaks down his back now because it feels like every muscle in your body is tightening as you cream around his cock, leaving a translucent ring for him to mess up with a few more well placed thrusts that have him reaching closer to his own orgasm. “Cummin’ so pretty for me- _fuck_.” You hold him close and continue to constrict your cunt walls around him, his head placed near your neck for him to bite at as he fills you up, a deep rock into you and he stills, plugging his cum inside you. 

Zeke wishes he could lay here forever, your belly between him and you, and him inside you. It’s a comfort in it’s own right, seeing you filled with him, claimed with his kid inside you, ontop of you in borderline possessiveness. There’s things you both need to speak about but right now he can predict you saying you are either hungry or needing a bath, or both. 

After you both catch your breath he leans back, slipping his cock out in the process. It’s picturesque, seeing his seed slip from your cunt and down your ass, sticking in the curls around your cunt in the process, and seeing the previous fruits of his seed growing inside you. He didn’t expect to like it this much but _fuck_. You look godly, basking in the aftermath of a wonderful orgasm, truly glowing. 

**/ / :**

“After you have this kid I’m fucking marrying you.” He doesn’t mean to say it but it’s too late to turn back now. Post-coital bliss must be fogging up his head.

You give him a wild disheveled look as you prop yourself up on an elbow. “Wha- Zeke what the fuck? Is this your way of trying to propose to me?” 

It hurts that you sound offended but he does deserve that. “No, not yet, we have a lot to do before proposing.” His hands rub over your naked belly as he looks down at you. 

“What does that even mean?” 

“It means I have a lot of time between now and when you have them and I’m taking advantage of every second.” 

You cough out a laugh, “You’re ridiculous. Our baby won’t be able to stand you, I bet.”

You don’t even notice the slip-up but he does -- _ours_ , not _my_. “Of course, they won’t be able to stand, they’re a baby, they can’t even hold their heads up on their own.” 

The pillow that was behind your head hits his face and he is laughing deep within his chest. You’re complaining about he’s going to evolve into worse and worse dad jokes but _ah_ , if you are godly this must be heaven.


End file.
